


The Unexpected

by BID



Category: Fallout (Video Games), Fallout 4
Genre: Canon-Typical Violence, Gen, Not Shippy, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-06-04
Updated: 2018-06-04
Packaged: 2019-05-18 03:35:48
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,272
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14844932
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BID/pseuds/BID
Summary: Nick and Nate head out to help protect Diamond City from an approaching wave of Supermutants, but things don't go quite as planned and Nick find himself at the 'pointy end of the stick'.





	The Unexpected

**Author's Note:**

> Not inherently shippy but can be read as such, that's why I added the / tag!

Some days Nick wonders if this is the right place for him, being at Nates side, getting him into fights for the sake of people that deserve better, deserve closure, deserve revenge, deserve safety. And sometimes he wonders if the only reason Nate is putting himself through this is because of Nick, or for Nick, or if he believes in what they are trying to do.

The first time he saw Nate fighting he was, to be frank, intimidated, and not just due to the fact that he had just been held hostage. The man fought with an innate calm that allowed him to plough through his enemies with an almost lazy grace, like a god of peace and war wrapped into one neat, tight, blue package of "too pretty to not be a from a vault".  
He did not seem to derive joy from killing or the adrenaline of the fight, instead Nick caught him throwing momentary, forlorn glances at their corpses afterwards, stayed respectful when gathering ammo, stimpacks, and other useful things from their pockets and seams. But when Nate lies down later that night in the bed above Nick's office, cause that's the least he can offer his saviour, he can hear the man's breath evening out into a quiet sleep within minutes.

Outside of battle, Nate was a rather mild person too. Kind, and generous, but for all that Nate seemed to almost always smile, at Sheffield when giving him a nuka cola, at dogmeat bringing another rusty wrench, he never seemed to actually laugh. Never seen him cry, or yell, or even so much as swear, either.  
The most emotion Nick thinks he has seen in Nate's face was after they'd drank some atrocious vodka, getting the man fairly buzzed as they listened to the Diamond City radio, and Nate from one moment to another practically threw the bottle back onto the table, gave it his most sad and disgusted face that Nick could possibly imagine on Nate, and then left. Leaving Nick sitting by himself in mild confusion, making a mental note not to make his companion drink if it seems to upset him so much.

For all that he did want Nate to be comfortable to come out of his mild shell, he did not want to cause him distress or force it.

On the other hand, Nick feels that maybe, maybe he should have forced it. Maybe he would have come to get to know another side of Nate, maybe that would have prepared him for today.

They had decided to head out in the early morning hours to make use of the spare fusion core that Nate had bought in the market and help out the Diamond City guard with a new wave of super mutants that was expected to show up by noon.  
Their plan had been to ambush them while the mutants were en route, and set up minefields and traps on their most likely routes to thin out their numbers before hitting diamond city.

One of the guard leaders had approached them about it, mostly about the traps and mines, as she had been worried they may get overrun, or at least lose a lot of her people, whom she was supposed to keep alive through strategy and preparation. But with no one to spare to send out to lay the traps in the locations she had singled out, lest the attack may happen earlier than suspected, and asking civilians being completely out of the question, she had figured that asking him and Nate for assistance was the most logical and efficient thing to do.

"Efficient" was one way to call it, Nick found himself thinking when staring over the shotgun at the carnage in front of him. Nate's lazy grace left him when he entered the power armor, instead being replaced by controlled stillness. No move was wasted, no turn unnecessary, no aim taking a second longer than it had to set a shot.

They had set up the traps, yes, but they wouldn't need them now anymore. Not with eleven super mutant corpses lying in the street, and Nate dropping the last one standing with a carefully aimed dagger that the mutant hadn't expected to precede the butt of the rifle.

To Nicks shock though, to his terror, Nate turned, pointed his laser rifle at Nick, aimed for a moment and shot.  
The only thing that had saved him, was that second before that Nicks systems, those that he loathed some days, had suddenly flagged Nate as a hostile.

He dodged in just the last moment, stupidly dropping his weapon as he'd rolled to the side, behind an old car, onto his feet, and immediately sprinted into a narrow alleyway to get out of Nate's sight. In the armor though, he was deceptively quick, the mechanical roar of servos drumming into Valentine's ears.

Nick turns his head a fraction, to judge the distance between them, but all he sees is a large, mechanical hand reaching out for him, swatting at his shoulder to unbalance him, and suddenly something practically punches his head, wraps half around his face.  
His hat falls down, and for a moment all there is, is a split-second of increasing pressure, the knowledge that he has been betrayed by someone he thought trustworthy. Thought admirable. He doesn't even get to see Nate's face as he is doing this, and all Nick can do is stare at the visage of the armor with wide eyes and a scream of terror and pain lodged in his throat.

And then, everything stops. The armor freezes its movement, the pressure stops increasing. Nick doesn't even have the time to find his footing let alone his freedom, when he is suddenly dropped to the ground, the suit staggering backwards with a flail, and mid-movement Nick can head it beep, a hiss of servos disengaging the suit.

The plating swings open, and with a heavy thud Nate trips out of it, pushing himself to his feet, staring in wide-eyed panic at Nick as if he had been the one to go berserk.  
Nate shuffles backwards, and Nick can tell he's about to run, to turn around, except that Nate makes it three steps when he trips against a trashcan and promptly vomits the mirelurk cakes from this morning into it.

Carefully, as not to make a sound Nick gets up, removing the fusion core from the armor rendering it temporarily useless.

Only then does he approach Nate, can already hear the apologies being muttered towards the ground.

"Nate?"

The man flinches and turns toward Valentine, eyes wide and glazed, still clinging with one hand to the rim of the mounted trashcan. For good reason, as he is shivering through his entire body, and the closer Nick steps the smaller Nate seems to become where he is now half kneeling, half sitting on the pavement.

Nick kneels down with a sigh, he doesn't touch him, makes sure to look over Nate's shoulder instead of into his eyes.

"Not a fan or power-armor then, I take it?"

Nate stares at him for a long moment and then gasps out a quiet, "I'm so sorry."

"It's alright, you caught yourself. Gave me one hell of a fright though. Don't even think for a moment that I'll let you into one of these things again." Nick carefully stretches out his hand, moving slow and deliberate. "Let me help you up, we grab our things and head back to the gates, yes?"

There is a moment of pause before Nate takes a deep breath and nods.


End file.
